JONAH was told what to do….and ran from it. What is my Nineveh?
I WALK A PATH LINED IN PINK
and ponder last night,
willing guinea pigs for my cooking experiments.
I made Shaved Asparagus Pizza,
which I saw for the first time
only the day before,
but tried anyway … with company coming!
I wouldn’t have dared it when I was younger.
and reflect on last night’s sharing
and the hugs that went ’round at their leave-taking.
I told them all
how I was into my 3rd week of a study of Jonah
and still hadn’t figured out my Nineveh,
if there is one.
No, you don’t have to have one,
but if there IS one
I want to know what it is.
Must I always wait until I’m thrown overboard
and swallowed by a fish before it dawns on me?
Messy business, that.
Maybe I don’t have one, it is suggested.
Maybe I’m “between” Ninevehs at the moment.
They make note of my request and move on.
LATER, the friend to my left asks, “How’s the book coming?”
and I let out a groan
like the pizza hadn’t agreed with me.
“We are having a lovers’ spat at the moment,
the book and I,” I explain.
And, believe me, we are.
We are calling each other names.
I call it a waste of time
and it calls me a waste of space. Oy!
A full 12 hours pass
before it hits me
my friend may have put her finger
right on my Nineveh,
a sore spot.